Today

Today
: I have been working on a possible newspaper op-ed — thus, light posting this evening — and in the morning, I will be going to the World Trade Center for the memorial. I will post from New York.

  • http://www.humanfirstthenproudiranian.blogspot.com Faramin

    In remembering the victims of the Fanatic’s attacks on humanity on September 11, 2001, please also remmber the 3000 direct victims of the US engineered coup d’etat against the people of Chilie in September 11, 1973.
    Human is human.

  • http://www.lolajl.net/blog/ Lola

    I’ve posted “A Day to Remember” on my blog. If you have a moment, please take the time to read it.

  • KMK

    My friend wrote this. I helped her finish it and asked if I could post it here. I’m the friend she was looking for.
    What a beautiful day it is. That’s all I keep saying to myself all the way to work. The sky is blue the air is cool the sun is shining. It’s amazing what weather can do to your spirit. Quick look at my watch 8:43 I stop and wait for a coffee at my usual pushcart. Ahh, coffee on a beautiful day in Manhattan. I hear an engine noise. I look up. Wow it’s low. What is that plane doing? Oh my God. It swerved right into the trade center. I dropped my coffee. Hot splashes hit my legs. I ran for what seemed an eternity to my building screaming a plane just flew into the trade center. I get in the elevator and didn’t hold it for anyone. I’m pushing the floor button uncontrollably. I get out on my floor and run onto my floor screaming for everyone to listen does anyone know anyone in the towers. They run to the windows and look, horrified. People are racing to the phones, emailing and I’m running through the floor like a human megaphone. Time has become dreamlike. Am I dreaming? A second plane hits. Out I screamed everyone out now.
    That’s how the day began.
    It’s raining paper, and debris. Sirens and screams. The smell of jet fuel. People are jumping. Bodies are landing, one on a firefighter. People landing on the plaza, maybe they are aiming — praying for the tent on the plaza roof to break their fall. There is a hand on the sidewalk, bits of flesh, bloodied pieces of clothes. People are still jumping. Someone near me retches. My friend skipped work this morning to shop in there. I want to help. No, I need to help. I say it out loud. An officer grabs both shoulders and says “you can’t, start heading north now.” Where are they evacuating the towers? He looks shaken “Broadway north.”
    I’m running again. At Broadway north people are running out, what floor were you on someone yells, we hear 40th, 45th, 70th hope soars, briefly. There is too many people coming out. I won’t find my friend in this. I start walking quickly now. I get two blocks away. I’m still looking at faces. There’s a rumbling noise. Time stops. The tower sways. I’m running again. A door is held open. I run in and as far back as I can go, hands over my head to block out the sound. Then, silence. Deafening silence.
    Voices, people are asking is everyone ok. We wait for what seems like an eternity. Voices, from outside. Shouting, screaming “run.” I make my way to the door. There is no light coming through the glass. The door doesn’t open easily. I’m choking, eyes are stinging, which way is north. I stumble for a full block. There is a hand on my elbow, north I say, north he says. Two blocks, three blocks we are more then two now. Four blocks, five, six and the group is growing. The ash is thinning but you can see it still dancing in the light beams shining through. We are fourteen or so blocks and begin to slow our pace. Most have made off for different directions now. I know where I am. We part ways I continue north to my friends apt. A few blocks more and the second tower crumbles. So do I. Right down. Sobbing and rocking. Arms are lifting me just leave me I say. No, she says. It’s my friend.
    In all I saw nothing could compare to the next day at St. Vincent’s. People with pictures of their loved and missing. Searching. It haunts my dreams.
    Days or maybe weeks later I saw a sign on a wall. “You are alive.” It stopped me dead in my tracks.
    I am alive. With the help of my friend we write this. We are alive to bear witness and testify so that we/you never forget the missing, the families, and the civil servants who blatantly showed the very moral fiber that sews us all together. We don’t believe if you weren’t there you don’t know. You saw, even if by tv only. If you breathed air in the month that followed you breathed in NY, Washington, and Pittsburgh. Remember the volunteers waiting to dig out the fallen, ash covered, shovels in hands, skin only visible where tears had fallen. You waited and watched too. Remember the people who gave time, money and fed the volunteers. Remember the day because you are alive.